Within a mighty vault, forming a still, cold tomb, there lay a vessel all complete, with masts and spars and anchor; and on the deck there sat a grim skeleton clad in a robe of flame, and on his skinless arm glittered the golden arm-ring wrought by Völund. The figure held in his left hand a blood-stained sword, from which he was trying to scour away the stains.
"It is my arm-ring," said Thorsten Vikingsson; "it is the spirit of the viking Soté."
And forthwith he forced his way into the tomb, and, after a deadly conflict with the specter, regained his treasure.
And the two friends sailed home in triumph.
The third great thing that Frithiof inherited was the dragon-ship "Ellide," which his forefathers had won in the following manner:
One of them, a rough, rude viking, with a tender heart, was out at sea, and on a wreck that was fast sinking saw an old man with green locks sitting disconsolately.
The good-natured viking picked him up, took him home, gave him of the best of food and of sparkling mead, and would have lodged him in his house; but the green-haired man said he could not tarry, for he had many miles to sail that night.
"But when the sun comes up in the east," added the stranger, "look for a thank-gift on the wild seashore."
And behold, as morning dawned, the viking saw a goodly vessel making gallant headway. As she drew near the land with streamer flying and broad sails flapping in the wind, the viking saw that there was no soul on board of her; and yet, without steersman to guide her, the vessel avoided the shoals and held her way straight to the spot where he was standing.
Her prow was a dragon's head, a dragon's tail formed her stern, and dragon's wings bore her along swifter than an eagle before the storm.